You'll Always Be Loved
by fridgemagnet
Summary: how deidara met sasori, sweet fluffy nonsense - from Deidara's POV


Just so you know the characters in this are Deidara and Sasori

Disclaimer - I do not own the characters in this fan fic

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We first met at the train station, which just so happened to be my favourite place to hang out on my own. In fact, I always hang out on my own, there's never anyone who wants to hang out with me so, like I said before I was on my own. I was thinking about the benefits of suicide, but I didn't come up with anything apart from the end of my miserable life, in which no one cared about me. I was just leaving as he bumped into me and dropped all of his belongings. "Oh sorry," I apologised, and helped him pick up his belongings. I reached out for a notebook and at the same time, so did he; our hands collided. I felt a weird connection, blushed and looked up at him.

His hair was stuck up into auburn spikes, I liked it. The colour of his eyes taints my mind every time I think of him, a specific shade of scarlet, the colour that remided me of blood. I was so transfixed to his whirlpools of his eyes that he had to tap my shoulder to get me out of my trance. He was smiling and at the same time explaining to me that he'd take me home safely, for the sun was setting romantically across the horizon. I just smiled broadly and nodded, pointing in the direction in which my home was located.

We got to my street where he left me with a paper in which his number was printed. I hugged the paper to my heart, then realised what I was doing and stopped immediately. As his auburn spikes disappeared from the horizon I felt a slight pang of desire hit my heart. I would call him; I thought not knowing of the day to come.

Once alone in my house I tried to recall all the things happening before the red head had come. I remembered the thoughts about committing suicide, what a stupid idea that was; I mean if I'd have committed suicide then I would never have met that guy with fiery spikes for hair. I was too much of a chicken to call him, even though I yearned to do so. Instead, too calm myself down I took a towel, walked to my stylish bathroom, contemplated on whether taking a bath or shower, stripped and climbed under the shower head.

I was still taking a shower when I heard the door being savagely attacked with knockings of some kind. I turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around my waist, expecting to see the landlord at the door. I was nearly there when I saw a load of bags by the coat hangers; the red head had left them on the street I remembered.

I swung the door open and quickly hid behind it, for in front of me was the very man I did not want to see at that moment. Panic struck my soul as I tried to think of something smart to say. "I believe I left my bags outside your house, do you have them?" he as though he was having the time of his life, watching me embarrass myself.

I leaned over to where the bags were, picked them all up and thrust my arm out behind the shelter of the door. He took them, and my arm whizzed back to my side.

"Thanks," he beamed and slowly turned away and went onto the path. I closed my door and slumped to the ground, burying my face in my towel. What am I doing, falling for some guy that only bumped into me, what is my problem?  
After tormenting myself for quite some time I turned my attention to the TV screen, the theme tune for The Simpsons filled the room, and I scrambled to the couch, forgetting my worries.

The next day I was at the train station, same place, same time, with the paper encased in my fist. I was looking down at my new shoes, admiring the Nike tick which was printed on each side of the trainers. I pulled my long blonde hair back into a pony tail, leaving a long piece of it to drape over the left side of my face.  
I went back to admiring the Nike tick only to be interrupted by a nudge on my shoulder, I was about to say something, but I saw the reddish brown spikes and closed my mouth. I felt my face rising in temperature slightly, and I swear I saw the slightest colour dot his perfectly carved cheeks.

"Hey," he sounded dazzling, well that was to be expected, he was dazzling.

"Hey," I replied, feeling my facial temperature rise a couple more centigrades.

"Wanna go somewhere?" he dazzled. I nodded and felt my cheeks burn up. He snatched my hand from my side and led me on to a train, not caring where we were going. He paid and we sat down across from each other. We spent the entire train ride drowning in each other's gaze.

The train slowed and came to a stop. He stood up first and grabbed my hand; my heart did a weird palpitation as he touched my hand. We exited the train and walked out of the station hand in hand. There was a lovely little path which was lit up by the light of the lamp posts which were on either side of it. As the wind blew we were flooded with stray cherry blossom petals. I started to pick the lost petals out of my flaxen hair, but his hand pulled mine away, "They compliment the colour of your cheeks." His comment made me blush terribly, "especially when you blush," he chuckled, and that only made me blush harder.

"The snow makes your hair stand out, but I like it that way," I whispers; just loudly enough so that he could hear me. The shade of his cheeks deepened and he looked up. Above our heads was the cutest piece of mistletoe. "Bad to break traditions," he shrugged and his lips caught mine.

Something dawned on me, something that I had never thought about before; I'm always going to be loved, whether it's by a man or a woman. I'm always going to be loved.


End file.
